


A mirror into your world

by Riddlemethis6647



Category: Black Mirror (TV), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A what if scenario, Crossover, Hurt/Comfort, i really wanted to see Chris atleast alive, john Watson still “not gay”, sherlock is perplexed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:47:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25619104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riddlemethis6647/pseuds/Riddlemethis6647
Summary: One second Christopher Gillhaney was shot in the head by a local policewomen after fighting for the gun of his hostage that was trying to stop him from killing himself. The next second he wakes up.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Sebastian Moran/Jim Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this. This starts at about around after The Hounds Of Baskerville Baskerville but before Reichenbach falls

(Inspired by the episode smithereens with Andrew Scott)

One moment I’m fighting with the gun to end my misery out of the hand of Jayden.. the next I feel a pressure buildining up at the base of my skull as my nureons die and I descend into wanted oblivion. My head exploded, brain matter definitely coating my hostage/new acquaintance Jayden scarring him for life, I will die and then my fate will to be a headline that few people gloss over before going on with their day, that’s what I thought with my last seconds of consciousness on earth.  
I’m bloody dead. Darkness surrounds me, As I feel to be draped in silk

..Wait a moment, am I supposed to feel when I’m dead? Aren’t I supposed to be I don’t know, Gone? I can feel my head which was moments ago shot into smithereens, I can feel my hands as they glide across the fabric. I hear my heart thumping and the distinct sound of a clock.

I open my eyes to a well lit room, an alarm clock with the time 6:00 stares unblinkingly back at me as I grasp at my face. I look at the large bed I’m in covered in silk blankets and pillows ive only seen in stores like Regal or whatever the fuck it’s called. “What. The. Fuck.” I yell whisper. My breathing coming out in shallow gasps.  
Okay let’s get some things clear. My name is Christopher Gillhaney, I’m in a very rich looking room, and undecidedly it seems I am not dead.

I stay in the warm puddle of body heat for a moment staring at the ceiling, thinking and trying to get an awnser out of all the madness I have just gone through.  
Then it hits me, im still not gone. I’ve done all that to tell someone else of how I killed the love of my life from looking at my BLOODY PHONE and try and off myself… and I’m still here?  
This is it. This is my punishment. A FANCY FUCKING ROOM WITH SILK SHEETS AND A FLAT INCH TV HANGING UP LIKE A HOITY TOITY THING. 

After a few more minutes I start crying, bawling into the fabric. Yelling at the ceiling. Throwing the alarm clock off the nightstand. Throwing the blankets off me.  
After a while I look around again, sniffing from the runny nose you get after bawling. I get up to the curtains on the window and I pull them back. A meadow that seemed to be connecting a gravel road again connecting to whatever type of house I was in below me.. and a sports car parked right outside? I took one more look before stomping back into that giant bed and screaming into a pillow.  
“This can’t be happening..” I moaned out exasperated.  
“This must be some trick before I go to the first level of hell.” But even then if it were a good trick then Thalia would be here, right next to me in bed telling me it was all okay.  
  
‘Different POV’   
  
Flat faced into the bed Chris sinks into slumber once again wishing for everything to be over with. The next time he wakes up it’s not because of some alarm, it’s because two large hands shake him awake.  
“Fucking hell!” He shouts at the dark blond headed man standing too close to comfort. The man cynically smiles at him reminding him quite of a shark. “It’s morning.” He blankly says. Chris with wide eyes looks him up and and down and replies “And?!” The man squints for a moment sizing Chris up before huffing  
“I’m not in the mood today Jim, you can practice that routine for Holmes later.. I’ll be in the kitchen.”  
And with that left a flabbergasted Chris still wondering where in the world he was, and why he hell he addressed him as Jim.

Getting up he slowly went toward the door connecting to the bathroom, opening it carefully he peeked through and then went fully in. A wall mirror was what meet him as he turned.  
Through it wasn’t his face that shocked him, it was all the scars that racked his body, some looking to be fresh and still healing. He unmistakably knew that those were not there a couple days ago, sure some on the arms but not those exact scars and the rest seemed excessive. Like he had gone through torture multiple times.

Tracing a finger on a fresh healing gash starting from his hip and ending toward his stomach he grit his teeth and let out a hiss.  
Paying attention to each detail of himself the next thing he noticed was his hair, usually a mess with some unevenness here and there, his hair now seemed groomed and proper, naturally styled even.  
He would have to snip some hair and forcefully ruffle this to even get it to look like his usual mess. Realization set in as he stared at the face in the mirror that mocked him as it seemed to be his carbon copy with wrinkle lines and all, this was not himself. Atleast not the version he remembered.

Then for a split moment Chris’s mind wandered to an old American show he used to watch “The Twilight zone.” And thought this scenario would blend perfectly well in with that type of television… Indeed he was fucked.


	2. Figuring things out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian is uncomfortable with how Jim is acting, and Chris is absolutely not making things better by saying “thank you” and “are you okay?”

Sebastian Moran was having one hell of a day. First off his boss doesn’t call him, answer his phone calls, zip nadda- secondly when he finally gets to his house, he’s laying in bed with his whole room trashed, meaning Jim must’ve had one hell of a tantrum before he got there.

Probably some small inconvenience to his big plan, that he wasn’t aware of. But of course Moran was used to all of it, but still with all this Sherlock business in motion Jim had been actually more prone to just do his work for the day, talk to him briefly about some job needing to be done, and then going on stalking Sherlock and anyone close enough to him that he could use as leverage at some point.  
No tantrums or calling him randomly threatening him or teasing him, not even one “Sebby” or “Tiger.” 

It was also very unsettling to see that Jim had cried, his red puffy eyes were staring at him in his head on repeat, his act was pretty spot on. Sherlock won’t know what hit him when he goes full Richard Brooke. 

Preparing the eggs Seb hummed to himself, still confused on one point. Why was Jim toying with him today, to show his acting skills? To get underneath his skin? Either option told him he needed to keep his guard at least halfway up.  
If Jim wants to test him the least he can do is be the best right hand man he can be.

His thoughts were interrupted as Jim walked into the kitchen looking more like a dazed deer than a criminal mastermind. “So we’re doing this today” He grumbled underneath his breath.  
He put his gaze on Jim and went to set down breakfast.

“Any updates on your plans today?”  
He was meet by meek silence and a quick shake of the head. Sitting down Jim immediately copied his movements. Looking up and then looking back at his plate Sebastian sighed and started to dig in.

The silence broke when Jim out of the blue asked quietly  
“So.. do you have any plans today?”  
Sebastian replied to with a curt  
“Just the usual.”  
And that was replied by a small nod.  
Sebastian could feel Jim’s eyes burning into him. “What?”  
“It’s nothing, sorry.” Was a reply said sincerely.  
“Sorry? Since when are you one for apologies.. wait fuck never mind”  
“Are you okay?”  
“I’m going out for a moment. I’ll deal with whatever test you're giving me later.” 

Sebastian got up from the table, went into the garden and pulled out a cigarette.  
“What type of test is this anyway? You can see through my bullshit act congratulations Sebastian you get a new shiny gun!” He said mocking Jim’s voice with a terrible fake accent, whilst unbeknownst to him “Jim” was listening to each and every word he uttered. 

‘Chis POV’

This day couldn’t get any weirder, what the fuck was he talking about? At least he got a name out of that ramble. Sebastian, I now had a name for the bloke with the shark smile.  
I need to collect more data about my surroundings, Sebastian is calling me Jim so I better not correct him, I’m in a large expensive house out in the countryside and he may be my roommate or friend?

I have a “plan” for today whatever that may be, and the second I can I need to get to some sort of phone or laptop or whatever the hell to get more information. Also a side note for myself that Sebastian seems to not react well to courtesy from “Jim.” I’ll just walk back to the kitchen and see what to do from there.. shit he’s walking inside I need to act natural.. newspaper brilliant!  
Holding up the newspaper I look over to him. He’s staring directly at me with a raised eyebrow.  
“Sebastian?”  
“You’re newspapers upside down.”  
“And what of it?”  
“... I’m going out to work. Call me if there’s any updates.”  
And with that he walked outside the house.

Well then that’s one problem everted, the next is to try and find a phone.  
Going back upstairs I searched the room in which I woke up in. It only took me a few minutes until I found a phone inside the dresser table. Turning it on a screen informed me of a needed password, yelling profanities at it seeemed to do fuck all so I started guessing passwords. I went from names to things I would put it as and landed on a random year. Entering 1987 a small ding told me I was in.  
Navigating the phone was a bit hard as well, there was encrypted apps and what seemed to be algorithms of puzzles in every inch of the phone. Going through contacts list I found what I logically concluded to be Sebastian's cell and then went on to get the date 2011..

Great add time travel into the fucking mess, having no luck finding a last name I scrolled through the photos, and found a shocking amount of incriminating pictures, some photos of Sebastian, and a lot more photos of a bloke with high cheekbones and curly black hair.  
Sitting down again I put a hand through my hair  
“What in the world is happening to me right now.” 

Sighing I scroll through more photos and end up on one that sends me straight into a state in which I was like a cat seconds after there owner meows back at them for the first time.  
There was a photo of a newspaper clipping with the title “Sherlock Holmes; the next great detective sensation?” It described a case about a false operation in which a couple bank robbers had used a false job promise to only red headed men of typing out the whole entire dictionary in alphabetical order and printing it on paper, while the bank robbers chiselled away in the back room a secret tunnel into a bank.

Another POV

Chris put his head in his hands and screamed as another weird fact of this twisted reality he woke up in unfolded itself in front of him.  
He got up and paced back and forth before another epiphany hit him. The man called Sebastian was calling him Jim…

Christopher was now a fucking evil murdering fictional character, and he had no idea how to get out of it, the thought of if he tried to shoot him self was out of question since he wasn’t completely sure he wouldn’t just wake up again in the same or even worse situation. Chris truly was in hell.


End file.
